Thanksgiving 2024

We went to Thanksgiving dinner at Grandpa and Darla's house this year, and what a treat that was! We've been in charge of Thanksgiving dinner for many, many years in a row so not being in charge was quite a relief. Of course, Andrew kept busy in the kitchen experimenting with bread and pie (our two major assignments) and Miriam made a big ol' vat of cranberry sauce. But that's all we had to do. 

Dishes were a lot more manageable. And our leftover status is on point.

GG came for dinner as well. We ended up with ham, zucchini stuffing boats, frog eye salad, potatoes...and some other things I'm probably forgetting. It was a delicious feast and the company was wonderful. 

We ate dinner soon after arriving, though first Phoebe had to chase big Titus around to show him little Titus. He kept running from her and then every time he'd decided to give in and greet her she'd scream and run away. But eventually they managed to stand side-by-side.

Autumn birthday balloons

We've finally pulled down our birthday balloons from our autumnal crew! 

New poem just dropped

I wrote a poem about Phoebe's little incident with the pokeberry bush and it was published today in the most recent issue of Irreantum (21.4)! It's called "In which my toddler eats forbidden fruit."

And that's really about how much I have to say about that, except for the fact that I haven't worked on my term paper all day and don't really want to start working on it now, so perhaps I'll start brainstorming for our Christmas poem (because that deadline is coming up, too, and it's Thanksgiving and all my professors keep telling me to make sure I take time for a break (even though they're the ones with the deadlines—Rachel is experiencing this with her classes as well)). 

So some creative writing...as a treat...right?

Miriam's on the road!

Miriam took her learner's permit test this morning, so she can officially get behind the wheel! 

She only missed three questions on the test, so basically passed with flying colours! By this time next year she'll be a fully-fledged driver, which is wild! 

She'll miss out on getting all her hours in driving to seminary, which is how Rachel got her hours in. This isn't because the girls aren't going to seminary—they are! But Rachel is driving them in, and Miriam can't drive with Rachel (she has to drive with an adult). Last year Rachel and Miriam drove to seminary with Grandpa, so he was in the car supervising Rachel's driving.  

But, that's okay. We have plenty of other ways to get driving hours in. 

And we know to have her practice in Andrew's car (which has a back-up camera) so that she can reverse park into a stall during her driving test. 

And...I'm sure it will all be just fine.

Way to go, Miriam!

Now to sign her up for driver's ed...

And the cheeks softening on the dollar trade...

As the farewell post for one of my classes (spoiler: QUAL 8400) I wrote a little song, recorded it, and put it up in the discussion board. It was one of the options that we could select to say farewell to our peers and, well, I think we're all fairly sick of reading and writing in that class.

To give you an idea of how much writing we had to do, I had my final paper: 5036 words; weekly reflections and writing assignments: ~15,000 words; midterm paper: 3200 words; a 10,695-word transcript; 7000 words of responses to peers—that makes for a grand total of approximately 41,000 words! 

Times that by three courses...

So I, yes, I went a different direction with my final reflection on the course.

I just got braces, so I won't be posting a video of me singing it for you (because I still feel like I am learning how to talk around these things). My enunciation isn't the best right now, so I added subtitles (which is always a good idea for videos anyway). 

We had to answer a number of questions in our response (mentioning a peer who was particularly helpful, what readings were particularly useful, things of that nature) so it's smashing a bunch of random thoughts together but...it more or less made sense, I thihnk.

Here's what I tried to sing (I also played the ukulele, which is why the chord markings are there):

C                                                          F

In QUAL 8400 we learned a lot of things

              G7                                                     C

on qualitative research and how that research brings

                                         F

perspective to our fields. Each choice in method yields

              G7                                      C.         G7

an emic understanding of our planetary sphere.  Oh!

Chorus:

C

Phenomenology

C                  C7

ethnomethodology

F                       C

hermeneutics, grounded theory

D               G7

critical traditions

C

Feminist theory

C                           C7

ethnography and sym-

F                    C

-bolic interactionism,

G7.                  C

post-qual inquiry

Today's activities

This morning Andrew took Benjamin, Zoë, and Alexander to the Festival of Trees to see Benjamin's creation on display. We didn't realize that Benjamin would be given tickets for entering and had planned originally planned that only he would go with Dad, but because of the free tickets we had a couple of the other kids go along.

Georgia festival ticket prices feel a little outrageous (i.e. more than double) compared to Utah's pricing, which is unfortunate. But I suppose it's (1) for a good cause and (2) completely optional. We don't have to (and didn't) take our whole family to the festival, but sometimes I do wish events could be a little more "family friendly" around here. 

Anyway, here's Benjamin beside his display:

Georgia Festival of Trees: Christmas Brick Challenge

"There! I'm finished!" Benjamin declared. "Bare minimum—I get third place."

We told him that it was the experience of completing the challenge that was important, not winning. And he was satisfied with that because he honestly made a fantastic creation. 

It had two houses, decorated inside and out, a mountain with a cave inside, a fishing pond, a cozy fire, a snowball fight...it had just about everything imaginable. He originally named it "Christmas Truce" after the story of the Christmas Truce during WWI because the two warring groups in Star Wars are cooperating in this scene. Benjamin can tell you what the warring groups are...

First Encounter with a Newspaper

 

The Georgia Writers Museum mailed Zoë a copy of the newspaper her story was printed in and she tore open the envelope with gusto. 

"What in the world!?" she exclaimed as she unfolded and unfolded and unfolded the paper. "This thing is huge!! Are ALL newspapers this large?"

"Looks about right," I said.

Fun fact! I used to have a paper route!

I took over from my brother when he started early morning seminary. I'd get up and fold newspapers and then ride around on my bike and deliver them around town in the wee hours of the morning. 

I gave it up when I started early morning seminary myself a couple of years later, but...yeah...I guess you could say I'm pretty familiar with the general dimensions of newsprint. 

"For real?!" she squealed. "I thought newspapers were like…magazine-size…or something. But no! Look at this thing! That actually makes a lot of sense…when you think about it."

"What does?" I asked.

Filters

Finals are upon us. 

Or at least upon me. 

And I'm feeling it. 

But we'll get through it. 

The other day I was talking with Rachel and Andrew rather late in the evening, after Rachel and I got home from campus. I have three major papers due in the next three weeks and didn't feel like I had a lot written for any of them (and still somewhat feel like that), but I had to do an oral presentation on one of my papers and when I compiled my slide notes for that I found that I had nearly 2000 words. 

And I called it my first draft. 

"I already have 2000 words in my first draft. They're bad words, but they're words," I said.

"You're using bad words?!" Rachel said, with some feigned pearl-clutching.

"Would you like to know what people really call first drafts in my world? Poopy first drafts, that's what. But they don't say poopy."

"They say crappy?!" Rachel gulped, continuing her feigned horror.

No. They don't say crappy, either...though that's also a word we avoid in our house, to be honest. They use a much stronger word. 

I Saw Three Ships

This morning Andrew took Miriam to record "I Saw Three Ships" at the Johns Creek United Methodist chapel—on the organ from Trinity Church. It's a lovely organ!

And Miriam plays this piece phenomenally well! I'm just in awe of her talent!

Grandpa reminded me the other day that I can boast that I taught her how to play the piano. And that's true! I did! I taught her how to play the piano so well that I soon had to find an actual teacher for her (Aunt Linda) and we've been on the hunt for more and more advanced teachers for her ever since!

She's working with Ms. Deb right now and it's been wonderful! Ms. Deb is as excited about Miriam as we are! We love her studio!

Phoebe is THREE!

Phoebe finally got to open her presents on Saturday morning. But first we had to finish folding the clean laundry, which she was excited about because sitting in laundry baskets is one of her favourite activities:

On Wednesday Phoebe turned three

As I think I've mentioned already this semester (and probably more than once), but Tuesday—Wednesday—Thursday is a real slog for us. Tuesdays are my big day on campus. Wednesday we have co-op every other week, music lessons every week, and church activities in the evening. Thursday is Andrew's big day on campus. And...it's just a lot. 

It's even more of "a lot" when Andrew's out of town.

He went to Montreal to run a workshop this week and...it was a lot, a lot. 

In the middle of the whirlwind that was Wednesday, Phoebe quietly, and in a very self-satisfied manner, turned three. With no expectations about how the day should go, she was simply satisfied knowing that it was finally her birthday.

We didn't open any presents. We didn't have cake or ice cream. But it was her birthday, by golly!

She was so excited to go to co-op because she knew they were going to call her up to the front to sing to her. And they did. And she loved it. 

She bravely went to the preschool class for the first hour and then hung out with me the second hour while I tried to get some work accomplished. And I did—I finished reviewing a paper!

Digging in the LEGO bin

Quality time is tricky to identify because it can look like so many different things. 

Today, for Phoebe, it was making sure she got her morning "huggles" in. 

For Rachel it was making sure to go on a midday walk. 

For Alexander it was reading a chapter of a novel aloud before bed.

For Zoë it was getting to make dinner with Daddy.

For Miriam it was...surely something...checking in on her English project?

For FHE we all sat around and the kitchen table and looked up scriptures about remembering. Today was Remembrance Day and I forgot to do anything with the kids earlier in the day (the boys had doctor appointments this morning, so we did that), so we looked for things the scriptures ask us to remember and talked about the importance of not forgetting valuable lessons. That was some quality time right there. 

But perhaps my favourite little bit of quality time from today was following Benjamin down to the basement to look at how his LEGO entry for the Festival of Trees is coming along and then pawing through bin after bin of LEGO to find more and more white pieces for him to use so he doesn't have to dismantle another creation that's hogging all the white bricks. 

Technically you're supposed to enter your creation under the age of the oldest contributor. Benjamin was worried my "assistance" would disqualify him, but I assured him that having his mother look for certain bricks wasn't a meaningful contribution to the project at all—he's the one doing all the building!

Benjamin's LEGO creations are phenomenal. He's a bold and creative builder.

My creations are...

Why did you change it?!

I'm both embarrassed and pleased to announce that after 5.5 years in this house, our upstairs hallway bathroom is fully functional! 

Remember that one time when the people who owned the house before us put in a new shower but somehow put the shower liner under the shower threshold instead of over it, so water was leaking out under the threshold for years...and the entire subfloor rotted away...so we had to gut the bathroom down to the studs and start over from square one?

Remember how a pipe burst during the renovation and flooded the ceiling of the bathroom below and the whole thing collapsed into the other?

I literally have nightmares about that bathroom.

But, we paid thousands and thousands of dollars to fix and...it worked for a while...until we started noticing wet spots on the ceiling after the shower was used. 

So we stopped using it.

Natural back, Cool Joe!

For Christmas the primary children will be singing a medley of "Samuel Tells of Baby Jesus" and "Star Bright" that Miriam arranged. This week I worked with the kids on the variation to the tune of "Samuel Tells," which lowers the part a bit for the primary boys and young men to sing more easily. And then we turned our attention to "Star Bright." 

We have three little Korean boys in our primary and they knew that we'd be learning a Korean part for the song (we're doing English, Spanish, and Korean), so they started chanting, "Korean first! Korean first!"

How could I not do Korean first then? 

I introduced the kids to the Korean words a couple of weeks ago and it was...rough. 

So this week I listened and listened and listened to the Korean (thank you, Google translate) and paired sounds of the Korean with similar sounding words in English...like this:

당신은 밤을 (Dancing 'n pummel)
낮으로 바꾸죠 (Natural back, Cool Joe!)

To Be Atermined

Thinking about my sweet little toddler Rachel and all the funny things she used to say, I think enough time has elapsed that I can share a sweet little teenage Rachel story, which is simply this:

You know the acronyms TBA and TBD? 

They're thrown out quite regularly. One place in particular that TBA shows up in our religious culture is in the ward bulletin, usually in place of putting any names down for opening and closing prayers. 

Typically these are listed as the "invocation," (not an incantation, Alexander), a prayer used to invoke the spirit, and a "benediction," a blessing or good word (of prayer) offered at the close of the meeting. And quite often these invocations and benedictions are unassigned...until they're assigned at the last minute when the bishop or one of his counselors shakes your hand.

So beside invocation it will say "TBA" and beside benediction it will say "TBA" and you just kind of have to hope it's not you (unless you happen to be the kind of person who likes praying in public and then—kudos)!

Anyway, poor Rachel knew about TBD from other contexts—schedules, itineraries, etc. will often say some date or time or amount of something is TBD. That's "To Be Determined." 

And for years Rachel simply figured that TBA stood for "To Be Atermined" (whatever that means).

So now we say it whenever we see TBA and one of these days I know we're going to say it aloud in an important meeting by accident because...that's just how life goes!

Beautiful things in my world

On Monday I went out walking with the kids. Tuesday-Wednesday-Thursday has been such a slog this semester. But on Mondays we can take things a little slower. 

We had time to admire the leaves.

Here comes Simon! Here comes Simon!

We've been very busy with animals lately. 

The kids have been taking care of their own cat, of course, as well as the hermit crabs—which all had been on a deep dive under the sand, and only recently reemerged (much to Benjamin's relief). 

Then there's Luna puppy, who the kids still take out for a romp three times a week. But Luna had a friend over last week so the kids were taking out two puppies (bliss for Phoebe). 

And then Rachel has also been taking care of her former YW leader's cats the last couple of weeks as well. There are three of them: Simon, Xander, and Rose.

Last Tuesday as I was writing a list of things to do on the board before leaving for campus, Benjamin reminded me to put Luna up there, so I did. 

"Oh! And the cats!" I said. "Miriam's going to have to give Simon his shot this evening because we won't be home in time for Rachel to do that."

Two things you should know: Rachel drives me to campus and Simon's care includes twice-daily injections. There are just so many things to know in the world.

So, I'm writing on the board...

▢  Luna (lunchtime walk)

▢  Simon (next injection around 8:00)

And because I am me, I started singing while I was writing.

"Here comes Simon! Here comes Simon! Here comes Simon...my little funny bunny!" and so forth.

Drop and give me twenty!

On Sunday during dinner we usually ask the kids what they learned at church that day. Other days (and Sundays as well, to be honest) we ask what their favourite part of the day was. We always start with Phoebe and work our way up in age order. This week, Phoebe surprised us all by telling us:

"Well...Daddy makes me do push ups at snack time."

"Push ups?" I repeated. "Daddy makes you do...push ups...during sack time?"

"Yeah."

"What do you mean?"

Phoebe slithered off her chair and got down on the floor in push-up position. 

"Like this!" she said. "He makes me do so many!"

After she did a few (very poor) push ups she climbed back up into her chair. 

"That's what you learned at church today?" I clarified. "That Daddy makes you do push ups at snack time?"

"Yeah. Daddy makes me do push ups! He makes me do so many push ups!"

Andrew, who had been laughing too hard to speak finally wheezed out, "What do you mean?"

"PUSH. UPS." she said firmly. "I'm talking about push ups! I can show you!"

A broken bowl

The good news is my kitchen floor is (now) freshly mopped.

The bad news is that I only mopped it because Benjamin dropped a hot bowl of potato soup while he was getting it out of the microwave.

The explosion was loud and scary. 

Shards of glass went flying from one side of the kitchen clear to the other (and skittered into the dining room...and even made it onto the counter and the tops of the dishes drying in the top rack of the dishwasher, which we thought was particularly impressive). The soup splattered a bit, but its spray radius was nothing compared to how the glass scattered.

Jack-o-Lantern Carving

Halloween morning got a little rough at our house, with me losing my temper because I have so much to do, so many balls to juggle, and some of us (who shall remain anonymous) have been difficult to motivate to complete their schoolwork. It was...a frustrating morning...and Halloween, too, so I'm sure that contributed to the general chaos of the day. 

Also, a neighbour was having some trees removed in their yard so we were hearing chainsaws all day and...I should have been aware of how that was affecting me so I could have put earplugs in or something (too much ambient noise tends to make me really tense), but I didn't. Instead I just lost my temper in a huge way.

See this pumpkin? That's a little bit how our morning felt.

Happy Halloween 2024!

Phoebe had her heart set on being a puppy for Halloween. Kind of. She went through a lot of other ideas before settling on a puppy but knowing what I know about Phoebe I eventually decided to start putting together a puppy costume for her since no matter what other idea sprang into her mind...she kept coming back to "puppy."

And not just any puppy. Luna Puppy.

So I thought I'd just crochet a little hat for her with puppy dog ears. I pulled her onto my lap and we searched for a pattern for a crochet puppy hat. Many adorable options popped up.

"I want that one!" Phoebe said, pointing at the screen. 

"Which one?" I asked. "That doesn't tell me very much."

"That one!"

"Which one? This one with the cute little face on it?"

"No. That one."

"The one with its tongue sticking out?"

"No."

Phoebe wanted the design by Kristen Holloway—the plain one with flopped-over ears (the middle picture on the top row).

And she wanted it in black, just like Luna Puppy.

A Musical Number for Carter

Grandpa flew out to Utah for our cousin Carter's baptism this weekend and suggested that we perform a special musical number, specifically a special organ arrangement (Ryan Murphy) of "I Know that My Savior Loves Me" (Bell and Creamer). 

Grandpa gave us a copy of the music in September and I taught it to my kids by singing it for their lullaby every night for the next six weeks! We recorded it for family night a couple of weeks ago and...it went alright. 

There were a few complications. For instance, we couldn't sing in the chapel because the organ drowned out our voices. So we sang in the hallway, but then we had trouble hearing the organ...so Andrew stood in the doorway between the hallway and the chapel trying to conduct both our little choir and Miriam at the organ so that we could kind of be together. It's not the best recording ever made—we have some loose cannons in our troupe (*cough*Phoebe*cough*) but it'll do.

The kids sang their little hearts out. Grandpa played it at the baptism this afternoon. It's like we were there...but also not...

Perhaps we'll brush it off for a musical number sometime.

I suppose another complication is that although it's an organ and SATB (soprano, alto, tenor, bass) piece, we only had the organ music, so we kind of made up where our voices were supposed to come in and sang in unison rather than in parts. We could learn parts if we were invested enough...

For now, though, it's time to turn our attention to Christmas music.

 

You are a triceratops

Last night I was telling Andrew about a comment a peer made to me about the other night after reading some of my writing: "You sure don't toot your own horn much!"

And—despite my devoted, decades-long presence on this public weblog, which could be considered a form of tooting one's own horn, albeit a rather antiquated form in this day and age of rapidly transforming digital platforms—I don't really think I do toot my horn all that much. 

I rather enjoy being in the background. 

Oh, I like to be appreciated as much as anyone else, but I prefer passive accolades. 

Anyway, Andrew said that I would probably do well—at least in the academic world—to toot my own horn a little more, but even if I didn't, I should "remember that you have a horn, even if you don't toot it."

"Like a unicorn," I said. "Has horn. Does not toot it."

"You are not like a unicorn. You," he said, "are a triceratops!"